


Tuesday Morning Rituals

by aDarkerKnight



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-01
Updated: 2008-10-01
Packaged: 2017-10-21 07:07:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/222285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aDarkerKnight/pseuds/aDarkerKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every Tuesday morning, Clark Kent watches as Bruce Wayne walks into the newsroom and ignores him completely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tuesday Morning Rituals

**Author's Note:**

> Just a drabble-type thing. In two parts. Both of which, somehow, ended up with the exact same number of words. Go figure.

It's Tuesday morning. And like every Tuesday morning, Clark finds himself staring at the many clocks - one for every major city in the world – on one of the walls of the newsroom. The one that's labeled Metropolis tells him that it's 9:29 a.m., which means that, in exactly one minute's time, the elevator doors will open and The Daily Planet's owner will walk in.

Part of him wonders why the man has to be so damn precise all the time, but he doesn't attach enough importance to it to notice anything particular about that, except for the fact that it annoys him greatly. He glances from his keyboard to the array of clocks a million times a heartbeat, cursing his super speed and the fact that the seconds aren't going by fast enough. Irritated, he wishes he could speed time up, make that minute go by already. Until, suddenly, he hears the ding from the elevator resounding loudly to his sensitive ears. His eyes immediately dart toward the doors, which open up even slower than the seconds had been passing on the clocks.

And then finally, he sees him.

Today, he's wearing a well-tailored, obviously expensive, charcoal suit with a white dress shirt and a tie, which, Clark is certain, must be made of the finest silk. He keeps himself from staring at Bruce Wayne as he walks into the newsroom, smiling, his pale blue eyes quickly scanning across the bullpen. Once more, Clark can't help but notice that the man never looks in his direction. Dejectedly he shakes his head, silently admonishing himself for being so foolish as to hope that this time might have been different.

Out of the corner of his eye, Clark watches as the man walks over to the editor's office, stopping once to exchange a few words with a research assistant. He always stops to chat with pretty young women – and there is usually an abundance of them in his path, no matter where he's going.

Bothered by the thought of all these girls throwing themselves shamelessly at the man, Clark absently taps his pencil on the block of paper before him. The pencil snaps, sending one half flying all the way onto someone else's desk. Embarrassed, his cheeks reddening, he lunges for it, mumbling awkward apologies, hoping no one else notices. Or rather hoping someone doesn't notice.

When he sits back at his desk, Clark sees the door to the editor's office closing behind Bruce Wayne. Idly he wonders if there's any chance that, when he comes out, he'll actually look in this direction for once or whether his only real chance of being noticed would be to stand in the middle of the place, clad in the tight fitting spandex of his other work suit. Sighing, Clark returns to his work, all but convinced that the man wouldn't show much interest in Superman either.

=:=

It's Tuesday morning. And like every Tuesday morning, Bruce steps into the elevator leading up to The Daily Planet's newsroom for his weekly meeting with the editor in chief. He's exactly on time. He always is, not wanting to spend any more time there than strictly necessary in the guise of his ditsy playboy alter ego.

At 9:30 on the dot, the elevator doors open and he steps out into the newsroom.

As always, Bruce takes a moment to cast a circular glance around the room, though he never looks all the way to his right. He forces himself not to. He couldn't look at Clark Kent the same way he does everyone else, with the air of a man surveying his empire, smiling at the sight of his loyal subjects. Besides, he feels the weight of Clark's gaze upon him; he knows he's being watched - and taken for the fool he wants everyone here to believe he is. Everyone that is, except that man. So while he's always fully aware of Clark's presence, he takes careful precautions so that their eyes never meet across the room - accidentally or otherwise.

Resolutely, he walks over to the editor's office, but one young woman or another inevitably blocks his path. Unbeknownst to them, he's perfectly aware of that little wager they have going: which of them will the billionaire spend the most time chatting with? Perhaps they think he'll kidnap them back to his penthouse, should they make enough of an impression on him. Of course he's not going to, but it suits him fine that they think he might. So, he stops and chats with the girl whose turn it is today, and gives her a warm, almost seductive smile - he likes to stay in character as much as he can, and this girl is especially attractive.

Suddenly, he hears a crack, a clunk, and an embarrassed flow of excuses coming from somewhere to his right. He turns his head sharply, knowing it's safe to look. He takes in as much of the scene as he can, drinking in the sight of the man he doesn't otherwise let himself stare at so intensely.

It seems Clark has somehow sent a pencil flying on a coworker's desk. Last week, he'd spilled a stack of papers on the floor; the week before, his stapler had dropped noisily back on his desk after a set of aerial flips. As always, Bruce finds it amazing that the clumsy facade hides such an incredible man.

Tearing his eyes away from the scene, Bruce absently compliments the young woman on her hair before excusing himself and entering the editor's office. As he closes the door, he can't help but wonder how things might be different, if he wasn't leading this life - living as two people he's all but convinced that Superman would never associate with.


End file.
